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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24403117">Clouds in the ground.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chili_Sama/pseuds/Chili_Sama'>Chili_Sama</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Read This, Genocide, I feel really bad that my teacher had to read this and give me a grade, Like its fucked up guys, Major Character Injury, Original Character(s), Slavery, defacing corpses, im serious, implied psychosis, like seriously, literal colonization and slavery, now that i think about it, this is really dark guys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:28:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,305</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24403117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chili_Sama/pseuds/Chili_Sama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This was for a school project, but I think it's neat enough to post here. I really like it, and I'm super proud of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Clouds in the ground.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Little blue drops hung in the sky, shining brighter than anything Kugr’uet had ever seen. Even the veins of magic in his own skin had never shone as much as this. After a moment, he recognized them as the very thing that provided life in his home; droplets of water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though only moonlight shone through the water, they burned his eyes. Kugr’uet’s skin, which had previously ached from the lack of moisture, had now become oversaturated and had started to freeze in the chilly night air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warmth covered his left side, burning away some of the extra water that hovered in the sky alongside them. Belial flew beside him, hovering dangerously close. Both were painfully aware of how easily they could crash together and fall into the ground’s waiting arms; hills and valleys waiting to caress them one last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They flew, desperately trying to see through the fog, or rather, it would be clouds, wouldn’t it? At this height? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kugr’uet never had the pleasure to soar so high up above, before. It was unnatural. At least, that’s what Kugr’uet could assume since it hurt not to be, what Belial had called, ‘underneath the ground.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it had been explained to him, everyone else had lived on top of them for a very long time. Ever since living was a thing, as Belial had put it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vividly, he could recall a mere month ago before the worries of freezing, starving, and the knowledge of the world had been so graciously bestowed upon him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The city had been unusually cold that evening. It had gotten cold and dry, somehow. Even the houses higher up and dug into cave walls had no help from the usual steam. Those lower down seemed to be doing better than the ones above them. Kugr’uet would have been none the wiser had it not been for Emofe. His wife had complained about him needing to fetch water so they could keep the humidity right for their eggs. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’ll dry right out and turn into raisins!” Emofe was not amused with how Kugr’uet took his time. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, and then we can have a nice little raisin family.” Kugr’uet could tell that his response was well-taken when the shell of their last meal was hurled at his chest. A shame that Emofe had deemed it unfit to eat since a small bit of fungus had taken its hold on the beetle shell, but Kugr’uet had been taught that it did nothing but strengthen their immune systems. At least, that’s what he’d always been taught. But, alas, she’d already used it to dispose of some rotting sticks, so it was no good now. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The bucket placed under a weeping stalactite had started to leak and caught more dirt and pebbles than it usually did. A glance up told him that they would soon have new stalactites to collect from. The beginning of tips from the cavern ceiling just barely shown down into the light, and the telltale stalagmite had just begun to peak up from its little nest. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I should tell someone,’ Kugr’uet thought,’ So that we can start putting bowls down as quickly as we can.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A bowl would prevent further growth of the protrusion. A few stalactites around hadn’t been caught early enough and had grown beyond what they could clear on their own.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kugr’uet walked slowly, doing his best to keep the water from sloshing out of the holes near the top. Every time his movements were too erratic, he received an unpleasantly cold splash right between the base of his horns. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, uh Monarden? There’s a new thing down in the water room. It’s still small, too!” He called out to the man he’d recognized out of the corner of his eye. A short stubby-looking man with delicately curled horns that had started growing moss some years ago. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll spread the word.” Monarden, in his youth, enjoyed working around the little village. He had had no wife or kids to speak of. Even if he had, he probably still would have enjoyed helping the town out. Now, he was old and wrinkled. His black hair had turned grey, and his skin no longer glowed with the energy it once had. His veins sagged. The blue mana inside his veins was now just a soft royal blue, opposed to the almost neon teal that ran through all creatures they’d seen thus far. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span> “It’s still small enough to balance things on it. Just putting something down and leaving it should be good enough.” Kugr’uet said as he continued on his way home. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I'll bet you want ol' Monarden to do that, huh?" The man asked with a good-natured laugh before he rose up to go do just that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What a nice day that had been. Simple. He hadn’t had to do anything more than dig up a few fat worms after he got home, and help put the water around the little pouches on the walls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until about three weeks later, until he had crashed into a stranger’s house, half-dead, and hoping the last surviving egg of his clutch could cling to life for a little longer, where the bombshell knowledge had been dropped on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even before that. Maybe a day or two after he’d talked to Monard, something heavy was in the air, not moisture, or something physical. Just something foreboding. Something that told them all to get ready to fight, flee, or perish. Of course, no-one listened to the little nigglings in the back of their heads. That was their downfall. When the earth came tumbling down on their heads, no-one was prepared. At first, it was just some dirt. Such a minimal amount it was widely dismissed as the earth settling around them. And then more. Voices and clanging could be heard throughout the holes as the earth around it groaned and flexed. Finally, a light had burst through, blinding everyone who had been exposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Infants wailed and people shrieked. Rocks began falling more rapidly at that point, crushing whatever had the gall not to move out of its way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night had been chaos. Most infants exposed to moonlight had never recovered. They were forced to live life without a vital sense now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All but the one egg he’d been holding had been crushed. His whole nest. He wasn’t even sure Emofe had survived. Kugr’uet’s brief search revealed nothing. Amongst the chaos, he had no time for a more thorough one. All he had were the bags on his back, and an egg almost too soft to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Their smiles,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he remembered, </span>
  <em>
    <span>were all disguising disgust for the people they’d so viciously unearthed. They’d herded his people all up, trying to figure out what was going on. So many eggs left unattended and drying out. Freezing, even.  The things with fleshy skin, no fur or claws. Small teeth. The only hair on them seemed to be on their heads. A hoard of creatures Kugr’uet’s people had never seen before. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No-one could understand a word that the beings, the ones that had dug up their home, said. No-one even thought to try and escape for the next couple of days, or to stop them once they began to sap all their resources. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Their water tasted odd, and the bugs they’d feasted upon all their lives retreated because of the shivering of the soil around them. Death had already been looming over them within a few nights, just as it loomed over them now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frost covering his last surviving egg was no longer the most pressing issue on his mind as arrows whistled past his head and snapped him out of his thoughts. One pierced his wing, and he struggled to fly straight. Luckily, Belial carried the egg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go. Go-now. Quickly. Leave. Go as high as you can and leave.” Kugr’uet sputtered out, beginning to panic. He fell fast as more arrows pierced his stomach and legs. He could hardly feel more than pressure, now. </span>
</p><p><span>“I can’t-! I don’t know how to keep your kid alive!” Belial snapped, grappling onto Kugu’et’s arm and dragging him upwards. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“You’ll do fine. Follow the arrows-follow the scratches. In the trees! On the roots.” Kugr’uet continued to fall, and Belial could no longer keep his grip and Kugr’uet plummeted to the canopy of the sparse forest below. </span></p><p>
  <span>Kugr’uet never experienced such fear. Well, one time he had. He’d been talking to Monarden a few weeks before they’d been exposed to the earth’s surface. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think it’s been a nice few days, huh? The beetles’ve been extra docile.” Kugr’uet smiled, leaning back onto the wall that Monarden was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Something’s brewing, kid.” A sour face was brought onto Monarden by the words.  It was odd since he’d never been seen, by anyone at all, with anything other than a smile before. “Something’s brewing and I don’t like it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Whaddya mean? It’s been good. Even the water’s tasted better, I think.” Kugr’uet insisted, frowning. “It’s been real good so far.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t know, but I’ll tell you what. I’ve lived in this hut my whole life. My whole family has. I’m going to live here and I’m going to die here. Just like they intended for me to do.” His ancestors had all done the same. They had all pushed back when hard times came, all of them lived and died in the houses nearing the top of the hive-like structure that made up the village.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The feeling of fear in Kugr’uet’s stomach had never been stronger up until that point. The sinking feeling of terror and foreboding made him feel like he was going to lose his last meal on the floor in front of him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’d left after that. He’d left to go back home and he didn’t talk to Monarden again after that. He couldn’t talk to him. He had died the night they were dug up; crushed right in the very house he’d vowed to die in.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kugr’uet couldn't be shocked. It wasn’t surprising that Monarden had done just what he'd vowed to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now, Kugr'uet himself was going to do the same. He'd always joked with Emofe that he'd die protecting their family. Always gentle jabs about it, but now, this was more than real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel no sorrow nor regret what happened as he fell. The holes in his wings were only increasing in size the longer they were splayed open. Kugr’uet’s wings were far too numb to close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More arrows, each thicker than the last, landed in his flesh until he thumped into the ground, to later be collected and brought somewhere where his skin could be made into whatever the creatures desired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kugr’uet wondered if it was going to be the same place he wound up when they’d first been unearthed; the place many of his friends and family had gathered after being taken away to be ‘examined’ one by one before never coming back. Where he was sure he knew the blankets they had been given felt familiar. The one that was just the same shade as his brother. The one that lit up like fireworks when he had touched it. Just how it did when brother and sister tussled in the nest. Kugr’uet knew then, that the ruckus he had caused hadn’t been soon enough. It should have been more secretive. Then, maybe more of his people would have escaped alive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    Belial obeyed Kugr'uet’s instructions as best as he could. He didn't even know what direction they were going. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Up</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That was all he knew. Up, and towards the setting sun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Previously, they had to rest during the day because of Kugr'uet's sensitivity to light. Hopefully, now, they could reach. . . He didn't even know where he needed to go. Here Belial was, with a stranger's egg, an arrow in the spade of his tail, and no idea what to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tendrils of bush and tree alike threatened to steal away the warmth keeping the egg alive, every time Belial touched down to rest. Long branches and icy grounds fought tooth and claw to take it away. Belial had to fight even harder to keep it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belial knew enough about fire to keep himself warm, but the egg? It was a mystery. He had no idea how near it could be to one before it started to cook alive. He'd seen Kugr'uet place water in little. . . Pouches on his wings, before wrapping himself around the egg, but he had no idea what that was accomplishing, nor if it was important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belial seemed to be doing a good enough job since he could feel the child inside wiggling around when it got uncomfortable. Belial looked for the scratches in the trees, just like Kugr’uet told him, despite not knowing what it meant. He followed footprints, in circles, and the scents that had long since frozen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The egg. The egg kept moving and wriggling around, clawing at the leathery shell. He didn’t know if he needed to help the thing out, since, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he didn’t lay eggs</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The only experience he had with them was the wild hens that roamed around his little forest cottage held aloft by tree trunks. It was home, despite the ache his wings got without regular use... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, a bright blue claw tore out, some clear fluids spilling out of the wound on it. It squeaked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She</span>
  </em>
  <span> squeaked, as she wriggled her way out. She shivered with cold, and he had nothing to clothe her with. He hardly even had the clothes on his back-his shirt. He could use the shirt he wore, as filthy and full as holes as it was, it was better than nothing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A worm. She looked like a worm, with a thin body and almost no shoulders. A small little tuft of hair sprouted along the base of her neck and back. Her wings hardly fit her tiny body. They were at least twice the size of her body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While winter was hitting its apex, and the plants seemed to have retracted in on themselves, he found one; one claw mark going horizontally against the grain of the bark. And then more in the frozen ground pointed, once again, towards where the sun sets. A message he didn't know how to read, but a message nonetheless. Surely, something divine had intervened. There was no way he could have found this after all these months on his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belial kept going, looking for any message he could find. Letters began to look familiar, after a while of following them. Lines and teardrop shapes were starting to have meaning. They were pointing the two forward. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>arrows</span>
  </em>
  <span> used to point them westwards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With renewed vigour, he flew. He flew as quickly as he could, resting as little as possible. He moved much faster than Kugr’uet had. Hopefully, his friend would catch up. It still took him a long, long time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belial did the best he could to keep the child alive. Beetles and other bugs were scarce, and hard for his weak hands to dig up. Termites were hidden deep in trees, too. He’d resorted to feeding her little bits of animals that had frozen to death and ground-up roots.  He didn’t have a clue what to name her. He had no idea what Kugr’uet would have wanted, and his thoughts of his friend returning began to sink and twist inwards. Kugr’uet was dead, wasn’t he? And he wasn’t going to come back. Belial knew he shouldn’t think like that, but with every passing week and month, his hope dwindled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The number of trees and earth the message had been scratched into began to become very few and far between. The child, Rubima, he’d decided to call her, was growing well despite the lack of food and warmth. She had pretty blue skin, just like Kugr’uet, and eyes like that of a fly; compounds, not yet rounded by age. She looked like a little insect with clumsy wings that couldn’t carry her away just yet. She looked almost like Belial, with his insectile pinschers and hands, it was like she was his. Much different than the hairy worm she’d been mere months ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were almost a fine little family of two. Like it should be. They were getting along almost fine when disaster struck. They stopped. The simple shape-a line pointing to the right, with a line going vertically across the bottom. That simple shape that brought Belial hope-his lifeline. They stopped after this one that differed from the others, and he couldn’t figure out </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The same general shape, the head of the teardrop shape facing </span>
  <em>
    <span>upwards</span>
  </em>
  <span>, on the front of the tree, rather than being scrawled on the side. The ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>X</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ shape was clear on the back, but why did this point</span>
  <em>
    <span> upwards</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upwards. Towards the sky. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Up</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Belial needed to go up. He wasn’t sure if it was straight up. </span>
</p><p><span>“We’ve gotta go up, Baby.” He cooed to Rubima, who flapped her little wings as if she were trying to assist Belial. He gave a chortle as he began to flutter his wings and gain air. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“It’s going to be cold, okay? Really cold. Just hold on tight.” The child nodded with more enthusiasm than he’d ever seen from her before.</span></p><p>
  <span>Rubima tucked close to Belial’s chest, watching his breath fog up more the higher they got. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flying so high for so long tired Belial quickly. They had to land back at square one. Doubly more often because of the cold, sapping every last bit of heat and energy from their bodies with greedy fingers. The silky mane that extended down Rubima’s forehead all the way to the tip of her little tail had frost on the ends of the fine hair. Always, when they landed, it was there. It was one of the only constants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Belial just wasn’t flying high enough, he was sure of it. He was going to go as high as he could, today. He’d start at the crack of dawn. Before anyone found them, and his daughter could be skinned just like her brothers and sisters were.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flew up until his wings ached and his arms were falling asleep. Maybe just a twitch of his fingers, or maybe Rubima’s had caused it. But she fell. She fell with her wings tucked inside the shirt. Even if they weren’t, she had no hope of stopping herself. She called out, words he’d never thought he’d hear from her. “Daddy!” The now almost-toddler shrieked as she plummeted to her doom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belial dropped his wings to his sides and fell after her, arms outstretched in hopes to catch her as they fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure who hit the ground first, or if they even had because they both hovered in the air unharmed, Rubima safely tucked in Belial’s arms, and not a scratch on them. He’d felt their bodies collide, but no marks or injuries were to be seen on either of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s my daughter. You’ve got my daughter.” A voice came through the fog, in the strange hissing accent that Kugr’uet had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re mistaken. She’s mine.” Belial turned to meet the gaze of a woman who bore Rubima’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you must be my husband,” She said, placing a finger to her cheek in thought. “He was supposed to meet me here a long time ago. Come on, your family is waiting. The smile on her face was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>genuine as she led him up, higher into the sky. Into a pillar of clouds and smoke, somehow, warm, despite them standing on water vapour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monarden has been meaning to talk to you.” She beckoned Belial as she moved towards an old man with horns that curled delicately up and around his head, like a crown almost.</span>
</p>
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